Prime, p.5
Prime, page 5
part #13 of Nathan K Series
“You cut open the fence. Got it. I’ll trust that nobody saw you, that nobody has repaired the fence, and that you are now holed up someplace safe. Perhaps a town or two over.”
“Sorry, but as amazing as I am, and I will admit that I am quite amazing, the fact is that I still have human limitations. I can’t drive two cars at the same time, so I couldn’t have brought one to leave for you. So, once you get through the fence, it’s a straight shot in the woods for about a mile. You’ll come to a road, and you’ll find me sitting in a car waiting for you. Before you get all angry and protective, you should know that Larkin’s little compound here is remote enough that there was no way to tap into their computers without getting this close. Clockwork will know that, so hurry up. By now you should be ready to make the run. Let me know before you go, so I can ensure you have the safest escape possible.”
Nathan wanted to yell and grumble and complain and hug her tightly all at once. But he knew she was right. Especially because they had reached the bottom of the stairs and stood before the security door.
“Ready when you are,” he said. He ignored the sound of her smile in his ear.
“Wait one moment. There’s a single foot patrol that’s been sent out in all the confusion. I’m watching him.”
“I thought you were a mile away.”
“Satellites, dummy.”
As he waited, he could feel Anton’s hands shiver against the vest. Turning his head to the side, he said, “We’re almost there. When I open the door, you run. Don’t look back. I’ll make sure nobody hurts us. Just run straight for the fence. You understand?”
“Yes,” Anton said, the single word as unsteady as his hands.
“It’ll be okay. We’ve been through the worst of it.”
Robin said, “All clear. Go.”
Shoving Anton ahead, Nathan brought up the rear, scanning the area with wide arcs — his head and weapon locked in sync. As promised, the parking lot lights were out, a darkening glow all that remained high above. The back of the building suggested a warehouse without the loading docks, and while Nathan could hear the hustle of men aware of a threat, all those men ran in the wrong directions.
The cold Norwegian air nipped at Nathan’s skin and the snow crunched under his shoes. A quarter crescent in the sky. He paused, gazing upward. He hadn’t seen the sky in months. Hadn’t seen the outside. The smell of wooded air struck him — pines and mountain ash, fresh and clean, full of life and strength.
A mechanical sound snapped him back — a whirring he could not place. Rushing to catch up with Anton, they reached the fence. Off to the right, the cut section. Not exactly a hole, more of a flap, and Nathan swung it upward to allow Anton easy access. As the man ducked under, Nathan heard that sound again. An engine. Something trying to warm up enough in the cold to get moving properly. He lifted his gaze toward the roof.
To Anton, he said, “Run straight that way, through the woods until you hit the road. My partner is waiting there.”
“You’re not coming?”
Robin heard all of that. “Don’t you dare. I’ve worked too hard to save your ass. Get moving out of there.”
To both: “Sorry, but Dr. Kempo let it slip that the man behind all of this, the one I’ve been searching for, is here. Larkin is here.”
Anton said, “I’ve heard about him. You don’t want to mess with that guy.”
“Thanks for the concern. Now run.”
After a few halting steps, Anton finally turned and sprinted into the woods. Nathan had to give the guy credit. Those last moments of hesitation — Anton had considered staying, considered helping the man who had helped him. Not that Nathan wanted the help, but he still admired the thought.
“You listen to me,” Robin said, harsher than Nathan could recall ever hearing. “I’m not about to sit back here and —”
“You hear that sound? I think it’s a helicopter.”
“I know for a fact it’s a helicopter. That doesn’t matter.”
“Larkin’s going to get away.”
“Then let him. We can find him again.”
Snapshots of his dungeon cell and Dr. Kempo’s hellish salivating zipped through his mind. “I’m not going through this again. He’s here. Now. This has to end. Are you going to help me?”
“What kind of stupid question is that? Get moving.”
While he knew she would be mad at him for days, he also knew she would withhold her full wrath until they completed the mission. Until he was safe. And that wrath — it came out of love. He wanted to smile. He wanted to thank her. But the best he could offer was a grunt as he headed toward the building.
CHAPTER NINE
Jogging back through the parking lot, Nathan looked over the seven-story building. He knew Robin could unlock one of the security doors to allow him access, but the thought of fighting his way up floor after floor did not seem wise. A bit suicidal, in fact. Not that Larkin would allow his people to kill Nathan more than once, but even so, Larkin would have no problem issuing orders to incapacitate Nathan so that he could be imprisoned once more.
Pressing against the wall, Nathan checked over his equipment and ammo level. “Any chance you can hack into that helicopter and stop it from taking off?”
“That depends on a lot of factors including when the helicopter was built, if it’s been upgraded to have a Wi-Fi connection, what kind of software it’s using or is it still all analog —”
“Short answer, please.”
“No.”
The hard way then. “Just keep doing what you been doing. Have all of Larkin’s men as distracted as possible. I’ll fight my way to the top.”
“Don’t be silly. I mean, of course I’m going to keep as many diversions going as possible, but there’s no need for you to blitz your way through that building.”
“I’m listening.”
Sighing, Robin said, “Go to the northern corner — that’s to your right.”
Nathan skirted along the side of the building until he reached the corner. Peering around, he grinned. A few feet above, a caged ladder for emergencies led straight to the roof. “I could kiss you,” he said.
“You know you’re not my type. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Nathan thumbed on his rifle’s safety and used the weapon’s length to extend his reach. Only took two tries before he snagged the bottom of the ladder. A quick tug and it clattered down several feet. Made a lot of noise, too, but Nathan had no intention of waiting around to see if anybody showed up.
He jumped to the bottom rung and started climbing. The half-circle cage around him made the climb feel like crawling upward through a tube.
Great. I’m a hamster.
He kept his eyes focused on the top and his ears listening to the increasing speed of the helicopter’s rotors. If Larkin was already aboard, Nathan would never get there in time. However, he doubted Larkin would sit there waiting for the craft to be ready. No. A man like that demands everything be done so as not to waste time. Irony aside, Larkin would want to, at least, appear like a time is money guy. He wouldn’t show up on that roof until the last possible moment.
Rung after rung, Nathan climbed. He pushed all from his mind except the next rung. Breathe. He had to remember to breathe. Control the breaths to control the heart rate to control the situation.
The climb lasted forever, yet in less than thirty seconds, he had reached the ledge. Slowly, he raised his head over the lip to survey the area.
Four high-mounted, corner floodlights revealed a flat roof with an elevator housing off to the left. Storage containers lined two industrial HVAC units. All of it crowded off to the left corner. No guards. No room for them. At least, not when they ran around the compound like confused mice in a maze of Robin’s choosing.
The helicopter dominated the middle of the rooftop. Its rotors created gusts of wind, sending cold, natural air and hot, motor air in waves. An AW139 — a modern version of the Vietnam era Huey but sleeker, streamlined, and in this case, empty. Except for the pilot.
Nathan loaded a fresh magazine, swung his rifle into a ready position, and stepped onto the roof. In a crouching jog, he skimmed across toward the open side of the helicopter. No real plan had formed yet. Maybe shoot apart the tail. Maybe find some grenades and blow up the helicopter. Maybe sit inside the cabin and wait to ambush Larkin.
But Nathan never solidified a plan in his mind because the elevator doors opened. A wall of armed men stepped forward. In the middle of them — Larkin.
Time froze long enough for Nathan to see how little Larkin had changed. Still wore a white suit, still gray with a paunch, still that cocky twinkle in his eye suggesting he knew better than everyone else. Condescension oozed out of his pores. Centuries of arrogance had mutated him into this puppet master to rival all.
But Nathan refused to buy into it. In that instant, that frozen moment staring at him and watching him stare back, Nathan knew for certain Larkin would only accept one end to all of this. No matter what promises had been made, no matter what deals had been forgotten, when it all ended, Larkin would order the permanent death of Nathan K.
But Nathan had an answer for that. He opened fire.
The first shot took down one guard before the man had time to raise his weapon. The next shot winged a man while the third cut through his skull. Nathan strafed the rest of the group as he sidestepped toward the helicopter.
The guards in the rear yanked Larkin back into the elevator. The remaining two front guards returned fire.
In their fright, they missed their target. Bullets struck the rooftop. One sparked the inside of the helicopter. As Nathan rounded the nose of the aircraft with the intention of using the helicopter as cover, he saw the pilot had no intention of sticking around to be shot. While the two guards approached, the helicopter lifted into the night sky. The downward thrust of air pushed Nathan and the guards against the roof top. But where the guards struggled, Nathan excelled. Laying on his side, he took careful aim. The moment the aircraft cleared the roof, he popped off two well-placed rounds.
Jumping to his feet, he tapped his ear-comm. “Larkin took the elevator back down. We can’t let him escape.”
“I’ve already jammed the elevator. Got them stuck between the fifth and sixth floor. They’ll have either a manual override or they’ll simply go through the emergency ceiling hatch, but you still have some time.”
Standing on the far side of the elevator box, Nathan saw the roof access door to the stairwell. “On my way.”
He wrenched open the door and leaped down the stairs. Sweat salted his tongue. He hit the sixth-floor landing and hurried into the hall. To his right, the elevator doors had been opened a crack, and he could hear Larkin’s guards trying to pry their way free.
Sliding across the floor, Nathan halted to the side of the doors. Most of the elevator car had already dropped below the sixth. Peeking through the cracks, he managed to make at least one guard working the fifth-floor doors as well. Smart. With bad angles on both floors (thank you, Robin), they struggled to get at least one set of doors open by working them both.
A grenade would have finished them off, but Nathan no longer had that bit of weaponry. A few short bursts could be just as lethal, though. He stepped to the door, placed the muzzle of his Hellion bullpup into the opening, and squeezed.
Blinding flares of light, aching thunders of noise, and then the shrieking cries of pain. Nathan waited. When no return fire came, he guessed those guards still alive squatted low and focused on the fifth-floor door. Larkin must have pressed in one of the corners or against the door itself. Either way, Nathan could not get an angle. He could simply open fire and hope to luck into a hit, but wasting ammo was foolish when he had his target trapped.
Speeding off, Nathan hit the stairwell again and raced to the fifth floor.
CHAPTER TEN
Bursting through the door, Nathan turned toward a T-junction and the elevator. Pried wide open, he saw the bleeding bodies of two guards. No other guards. No Larkin. From the far end of one hall, rapid footfalls receded.
“He’s heading across the building on the fifth floor. Is there another elevator?”
“No,” Robin said. “But there is a skybridge that links with Building Two.”
“Building Two? You never said anything about —”
“I certainly did. Two buildings on this compound. Small town several miles off. All of it owned by Larkin. I may have left out the part about a pedestrian walkway linking them on the fifth floor, but you’re supposed to be running through the woods right now.”
Nathan raced down the hall. On his left, the wall became glass, revealing a modern boardroom. Several young people dressed in business-casual hid underneath the large meeting table. Two women stared in horror as he ran by. They probably had no idea what The Larkin Group actually did and simply thought they had lucked into a great job. With all the bullets and bloodshed, Nathan doubted they would think the same ever again.
When he turned the corner, he saw the two guards cut onto the brightly lit skybridge, but he never spotted Larkin standing against the corner. He missed Larkin swinging a metal cane, too. But he sure felt it.
His skull rang as his head twisted to the side. His feet dropped from under him, and before Nathan could put all the pieces together, he lay flat on his back with Larkin straddled over him, swinging that cane like an axe. The metal banged hard onto Nathan’s chest, his arms, and once more onto his head.
When Larkin stopped, he pulled out a white handkerchief and blotted his forehead. Prodding Nathan a few times with the cane, he said, “I wish I could kill you right now.”
Spitting blood, Nathan said, “Go ahead. I’ve got two souls.”
He tried to raise his rifle, but Larkin kicked it aside and stomped the cane onto his arm. Blowing a long breath, puffing his cheeks, Larkin said, “It has certainly been a long time since I’ve had to run around this much. But it’s over now. You’ve had your chance, and you’ve failed. You’ll be taken back to your cell, and when this is all over, when we understand how you do the tricks you’ve managed, then I hope we can be done with you, too.”
As the hallway stopped spinning, Nathan spit again. “I knew it. Octavia believed you wouldn’t act out of petty vengeance — she thinks you still have a noble purpose here — but I knew you were only waiting for the moment you could permanently kill me with impunity.”
“Not at all. The deal I offered you was legitimate. I would have honored it.”
Windows lined the right of the hall, and Nathan could see the skybridge. A dark figure stood atop it. Outside. The Cardinal. The wind fluttered his robes, and his glasses reflected the bridge’s light shining from below. Seeing him and hearing Larkin — the last bit of Nathan’s memory snapped back.
“That deal. Why did you change it? Why did you send him after me?”
Larkin followed Nathan’s gaze and offered the Cardinal a short nod. “The fact that you’re still asking such basic questions tells me how little you’ve learned since we first met. It’s a shame. You could have been one of the greatest Immortals ever.”
He bent down and removed Nathan’s sidearm. After checking the weapon with an expert’s efficiency, he took casual aim and blasted off a round. Nathan flinched at the sound, expecting his head to wrack to the side and see his brain open on the floor. Instead, sharp fire burned into his leg. He couldn’t be sure where exactly the bullet had lodged — his entire leg cried in agony — but he suspected his thigh.
“Can’t have you running away again,” Larkin said as he picked up the rifle and strolled toward the skybridge. Nathan managed to lift his head long enough to see the white-suited man stop, shake his head, and continue across.
Rolling to his stomach, Nathan reached ahead, dug his hands into the carpet, and pulled. He took a breath, then did it again — reach, dig, pull. Reach, dig, pull. He glanced up. Larkin passed under the Cardinal and hustled to Building Two.
“Mmmmmm.” Though still outside, the Cardinal could be heard with ease. Or maybe Nathan imagined the sound. Or perhaps he shared some connection with the Cardinal. It didn’t matter. None of those possibilities were good.
He lifted his gaze to the Cardinal once more. The Prime pushed off the skybridge with a dancer’s grace and lifted high into the air. The skybridge buckled in the middle. A weird music began — the snapping of cables mixed with the whine of metal. Sparks erupted where the bridge met the buildings. It lasted a few seconds before the bridge dropped to the ground in three uneven pieces. The crash happened fast. No multi-camera slow-motion visual feast. Like a car crash, the falling skybridge smashed into the ground, bursting out the windows, collapsing in the roof, and then it was over.
The chilly outside air flooded into the hallway. Nathan’s skin prickled as he crawled to the gap in the wall where the skybridge had been only seconds before. He saw it now — a dark line of charred debris against the snowy ground. It shouldn’t have looked like that. Not from simply collapsing. But, of course, the Cardinal had been the one to force it down. Clearly, that Prime also burned the thing. The question of Why? popped in Nathan’s head but only for a second. He had learned long ago not to look for comprehensible logic when it came to a mind like the Cardinal’s.
Nathan surveyed the rubble, hoping to see the charred, twisted body of Larkin. The man would live, but he would only have one soul. A cough caught Nathan’s ear. Across the gap, staring back at him from the Building Two, Larkin leaned forward on his cane like a Southern gentleman appraising his plantation — sweating and pale but pleased with his survival. Standing next to him and still fooled by the man’s empty promises, Octavia watched. Nathan glowered back.
Perhaps that wasn’t fair. Perhaps he shouldn’t look at them that way. If he allowed himself a moment of honesty, he didn’t feel that way, either. But that stupid white suit and condescending grin sent a thick rage through him. He wanted it to be true. He wanted Larkin to act like a racist old fool so that Octavia would see through his dishonesty.
